Educational Decrees ad Nauseum
by NoseyHeiffer
Summary: How would the staff of Hogwarts handle the current educational reforms and requirements that today's teachers are facing? Imagine Sprout's tears, Flitwick-style explosions, Hooch's Homeric profanity. With Severus and Minerva as leaders, what happens to Umbridge when they all team up against her? This is dedicated to all my teacher friends.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter.

This little story is dedicated to all my teacher friends.

I borrowed heavily from this website: as well as several websites documenting current state teacher requirements.

Please review.

 **CHAPTER 1 -** **"When I think back on all the crap . . . it's a wonder I can think at all."**

Sept. 8, 1995 - Professional Instrument for Schoolteacher Success

Albus Dumbledore smiled at his staff as they gathered around the staff room table. "Do come in," he urged them. "I know you're tired and quite ready for your first weekend, so I'll be as brief as possible." He paused, allowing them to be seated.

McGonagall dipped her quill in the inkwell and poised her hand just above the clean stack of fresh parchment lying on the table in front of her. She glanced up at the Headmaster. "Whenever you're ready, Albus," she said.

With a small smile at his deputy headmistress, he sat down. "Very quickly then," he addressed the professors, "I'd just like to see how your first week went. Any problems or concerns?"

Professor Sprout spoke up. "No problems here, Albus," she said. "Oh, there are always a few homesick first years. Happens every year, you know." Her shoulders shook as she chuckled, then she grew serious. "I _am_ short on fertilizer for my greenhouses, though."

Rubeus Hagrid spoke up. "I've got ya covered there, P'fessor Sprout," he said with a brisk nod. "Started a manure compost pile this spring. It should be ready fairly soon."

Dumbledore nodded. "And how are the rest of the houses?"

"I've had one homesick first year, but she's much better now. A biscuit, a cup of tea, and the tears were all gone," Minerva said told them. "All my Gryffindors are just fine."

"Oh, is that what you call them? Fine?" Severus drawled, deliberately trying to rile the older witch. "The rest of us call them loud, aggressive, obnoxious, and dim-witted." Laughter rang around the room.

Minerva, as he had intended, was reduced to sputtering like a cat while he merely grinned nonchalantly and continued. "My Slytherins, on the other hand, are quiet and adjusting well to life at Hogwarts."

"As are the Ravenclaws," Filius Flitwick stated quickly.

"Is there anything else?" Albus asked.

Aurora Sinistra said, "Headmaster, I would like to purchase some Muggle torches. Charity was telling me about them." She nodded towards Charity Burbage. "I believe it would be easier for the students to make their way about in the dark with them. Some of the younger ones do not master _lumos_ until much later in the year."

Albus smiled genuinely. "A clever idea," he told Sinistra. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid there is no more money in the budget to accommodate your request." His smile drooped.

"Charity," Sinistra twisted in her seat to speak with her friend, "how much do you think these torches would cost?"

"Oh, they shouldn't be too much, I should think," Burbage said cheerily. "I can pick some up in Glasgow this weekend."

Sinistra nodded. "If you'll do that, I'll split the cost with you."

"Fine," Dumbledore replied. "Rolanda? Any concerns?"

Rolanda Hooch, flying instructor, frowned in concentration. "Nothing I can think of," she said slowly. "Oh! Wait, yes, there is." She sat up suddenly. "I'm going to need another referee for quidditch this year. I think we ought to give Severus a break. He's got an awful lot on his plate right now."

"What a polite way of saying the students have been complaining that I am biased in my calls," Severus purred, a near smile on his face. Everyone chuckled, knowing the Potions Master was joking and not at all offended by the charge.

"Well," Hooch continued, a big smile on her face, "I ran into Gwenog Jones recently, and she said she could send a couple of the Harpies to guest referee our matches - if we wanted."

"It would also give the Harpies some free publicity," Aurora Sinistra added sotto voce.

Albus nodded and ran a hand over his long beard. "Yes, that should do nicely, Rolanda. Please thank Ms. Jones for us when you accept her kind offer. I'll leave all the details to you, then."

"Speaking of quidditch," Poppy Pomfrey commented, "I could use a few more potions in the hospital wing." She passed a parchment across the table to the Headmaster. "I'll need skelegro, pain potion, dreamless sleep, bruise paste, the usual."

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked and was rewarded by a quick nod of the potion master's head. The Headmaster passed him the parchment.

"Miss Granger can help with the brewing," Minerva asserted. "The girl needs to keep busy."

She stared at Severus, who frowned and clenched his teeth. A moment later, he relented and nodded his agreement. "I'll need a few more basic ingredients," Severus said softly. "I can purchase them tomorrow in Hogsmeade."

"Then you can take Miss Granger with you," McGonagall told him. "The girl can help."

"Minerva," Snape replied, "contrary to the basic facts necessitated by the lack of intellectual capabilities of our current lot of first year so-called students, I am not a babysitter." He paused to allow that to sink in. "However, as Miss Granger is slightly above the average deplorable lack of what passes for intelligence around this school, I will allow her to accompany me."

"I, too, think the girl is quite academically advanced and would benefit from further one-on-one instruction," the Headmaster said aloud, hiding a smile. "Thank you, Severus, for volunteering to tutor the girl. Does anyone need anything else?"

"Just chalk and children," Bathsheda Babbling, the Ancient Runes teacher, responded. "Just chalk and children."

"Very well," Albus said. He began to rise from his chair. "I declare this meeting to be o- "

"Ahem," Dolores Umbridge cleared her throat. "Ahem."

Albus paused with his butt hovering a bare three inches above his cushioned seat. Slowly he lowered himself back down. "Yes, Dolores," he inquired carefully, "is there something you need?"

"Not precisely speaking," she said with a simpering grin, "but I would like to share with you all the Ministry's new teacher evaluation process."

Albus frowned as did the rest of the staff. "I'm afraid," he said slowly, "that I am unaware of any Ministry evaluation process." He took off his glasses and wiped them clean on his sleeve before resettling them on his nose.

She stood, clearly intending to hi-jack the meeting. "I know," she told him. "It's a brand new development which I am supposed to explain to you all." She waved her wand, and several large rolls of parchment appeared on the table. "You'll each need to take a scroll," she instructed them, "and sign here to prove you have participated in the orientation training." She passed around a sheet of parchment that each of them duly signed.

"Please follow along with me as I explain the process," she told them succinctly. She waited until each staff member had unrolled the three hundred and fifty-eight page scroll. "Now, this pamphlet will explain the process in detail; however, I will personally be reviewing the evaluation process for you all during this meeting."

"Pamphlet?" Charity Burbage exclaimed. "This is bigger than the last novel I read!"

Umbridge shot her a dirty look before continuing. "You will all be evaluated on three separate components, which are further explained in this _pamphlet_." She emphasized the word for Charity's benefit, and with a wave of her wand a chalkboard materialized behind her. Another swish and flick of her wand formed the following words: P - Professional; I - Instrument for; S - School teacher; S- Success.

She then settled into her lecture. "You will be evaluated based on the new Ministry P. I. S. S. system, and there are three separate components to it. The first component is called the Class Room Assessment on Performance Standards. Your C.R.A.P.S. score will be based on actual observations of your teaching."

"Did she just say 'piss' and 'craps'?" muttered Severus.

Umbridge continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Your C.R.A.P.S. score consists of twelve standards: academic knowledge, magical lesson planning, teaching strategies, classroom management, testing, wand uses, textbook uses, positive learning environment, academically challenging environment, professionalism, loyalty to the Ministry, and communication."

"Dolores, I can personally vouch for all of my teachers," Albus said, clearly offended. "Each and every one of them has more than the requisite academic knowledge to teach his or her assigned subject. Rolanda, here, was a professional quidditch player, and Severus hold a Masters -"

She cut him off. "Yes, I'm sure they will all score well in that category," she said primly, brushing off his concerns.

Septima Vector dropped her scroll on the table. "I think this is a bit insulting if you want to know the truth." She pointed to the performance standards. "Any teacher worthy of the name creates academically challenging lesson plans! And we all know students learn in different ways."

"I'm so glad you agree with the Ministry, Septima," Umbridge shot back triumphantly. "A good teacher will know those things, and if you are a good teacher, it will show up in the C. R. A. P. S. section of your P. I. S. S. results."

Minerva laughed. "Well, Severus, I'm sure you'll fail the 'positive learning environment' part of your CRAPS and PISS results," she quipped.

Stony faced, he turned to her. "Ask me if I care," he intoned solemnly.

"Good question, Severus," Hooch commented. "So, Dolores, what happens if we don't pass your CRAPS and PISS test?"

"It's C. R. A. P. S. and P. I. S. S!" hissed Umbridge, her face turning a very uncomplimentary shade of mauve. "And it's not _my_ test, it's the Ministry's!" She paused, her chest heaving in anger. Then, she took a deep breath, controlled her breathing, and calmed down. When she spoke again, it was with a saccharinely sweet voice. "And to answer your question, you'll be terminated if you have low P. I. S. S. scores two years in a row."

"And how are we to be scored?" inquired Sinistra, her voice tinged with suspicion. "And who will be grading us for that matter?"

Dolores turned to face Aurora with her best imitation of a happy expression. "I am so glad you asked that, Aurora," she replied pleasantly. "On the C. R. A. P. S. section, you will receive a score of one through four in each of the twelve categories. A score of one indicates that you are unsuccessful. A score of two indicates that you need additional help in that category. A score of three indicates an acceptable performance. A score of four indicates that you are outstanding in that category."

"You still haven't told us who is to be conducting our evaluations," Sinistra reminded her.

"You will be graded by a professional who has already received outstanding ratings from the Ministry," she smiled toothily at them. "And, before anyone gets his or her feelings hurt, let me tell you that hardly no one -"

"Anyone," murmured Sinistra.

"- achieves a rating of four. Outstanding teachers spend their time investigating new methods with a goal towards improving pedagogical knowledge. They go above and beyond the call of duty. They attend meetings and workshops designed to make them a better teacher. They create opportunities to present those findings to their peers. They -"

"Are apparently never in their own classrooms," Burbage blurted out, finishing Umbridge's sentence.

"Furthermore," Dolores said, raising her voice and shooting a hateful glare at Burbage, "you will all be required to meet with each and every parent of each and every student you teach before the end of the month."

"That's impossible!" cried Babbling. "Dolores, do you have any idea how many students we have here at Hogwarts?"

"And who will be watching the students while we are meeting with parents?" asked Pomona Sprout. "You can't ask Poppy, Argus, and Irma to watch all the children alone!"

Burbage added her outrage to the fray. "What about the Muggle parents?" she demanded. "They can't come to Hogwarts. How are we supposed to meet with them?"

"Dumbledore," Dolores Umbridge called out firmly. She turned and directed her next remarks solely to him. "Not only does the Ministry insist that these meetings take place within the specified time frame, but also they are to be documented in triplicate on these official forms -" She flicked her wand, and a huge stack of multi-colored parchments appeared on the table. "- with the signatures of parents, teachers, and students," she said with a sniff. "Cornelius and I have determined that it can be done."

"Dolores," Albus Dumbledore said with great restraint, "I must state that this is a scheduling nightmare."

"No, no, Albus," Filius piped up, "there is a way it can be done." He looked up from the parchment on which he was furiously scribbling and handed it to Minerva. "Please double check me on this, Minerva."

Twin frown lines appeared between McGonagall's eyes as she examined the parchment. Nodding, she peered at Dumbledore through her glasses. "This schedule will work, Albus, but -"

"There!" crowed Umbridge. "It was just a matter of being positive." She beamed. "Now, let us discuss the next component of the evaluation process -"

"But," McGonagall cut her off, "it will mean that everyone of us will be on duty every weekend of this month." She passed the parchment along to the Headmaster.

"And," Filius interjected, "someone will have to coordinate with all the Muggle parents to make sure they can attend."

"What compensation can we expect for giving up all of our weekends for an entire month?" asked Aurora Sinistra. Arching an elegant brow, she folded her arms across her chest. "Surely, you don't expect us to put in extra hours of work without extra reimbursement."

Umbridge sniffed and turned ice cold eyes on her. "You are a salaried employee," she informed the Astronomy professor arrogantly, "and you will put in whatever time it takes to complete your job." She turned, ignoring the collective grumblings, and faced the group. "As I stated, there are further requirements that we need to discuss."

"More PISS?" Hooch asked with a straight face.

"The P. I. S. S. system is made up of three parts," she explained in a haughty tone, "as I've already told you. Perhaps you should listen, Rolanda. The C. R. A. P. S. component only counts fifty percent of your overall P. I. S. S. evaluation. The second component counts twenty percent."

"Let me guess," Snape drawled with contempt. "This second component is called shi- "

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. He coughed a couple of time as well. "I'm sorry, Dolores," he said with a plastered smile. "You were saying?"

A momentary look or irritation flitted across her countenance, but she quickly halted it, batted her eyelashes outrageously, and carried on. "The second component, counting twenty percent of your overall score, is your Student Led Assessment of Professors," she said brightly, "or your S. L. A. P. score for short." She clasped her hands together in front of her in an angelic pose. "Each student will be asked to evaluate his or her professors, and their evaluations will make up a portion of your overall P. I. S. S. results."

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?" Severus asked with deadly, deliberate calm. "I thought you said that the _children_ would be grading _us_."

"Yes, of course," she chirped. "Students spend more time in the classrooms than any observer possibly could, so their opinions should count."

Absolute chaos broke loose and galloped around the room like one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. "Dolores," Dumbledore spoke loudly and clearly. He had abandoned the eccentric grandfatherly image completely. "This is ridiculous. I have no problem, and I'm sure I can speak for my staff as well, with a qualified, objective expert in a given discipline of study coming in to observe the performance of my teachers. Nor do I have any qualms with my teachers being held accountable for their classroom abilities. However, I see no legitimate reason for allowing _children_ to evaluate adults."

"I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about it, Albus," she said smugly. "It is a Ministry decision." She shuffled the parchments before her, trying to dodge the deadly glares and stares aimed at her.

"You said there were three components," Trelawney whispered tremulously. She wrung her hands; her bangles and beads tinkled loudly in the cold silence of the room.

"Oh, yes," Dolores replied. She tossed her head in a high-handed manner. "The last thirty percent of your overall P. I. S. S. score is based on the Assessment of Student Scores."

"Do you mean to tell me, Dolores Umbridge," Minerva McGonagall demanded, her green eyes aflame, "that we will be held accountable for student test scores?"

"Well, of course!" Umbridge snapped in reply. She thrust her fists on her hips. "If you're doing your job properly, then all of your students should pass their O. W. L. and N. E. W. T. tests," she asserted. "And then your A. S. S. results will be covered, so you'll have nothing to worry about." She flashed her most charming smile.

Severus slapped both of his hands down on the table and opened his mouth, but Filius Flitwick forestalled him. "Madam Umbridge," he said as reasonably as possible, "the Ministry is proceeding from a false premise. A poorly scoring student is not necessarily indicative of a poorly performing teacher. There are a multitude of factors that may prevent a student from performing well. Impediments such as test anxiety, lack of effort or ability on the student's part, family problems, maturity levels, and or emotional issues are just a few."

"And the reverse of that is also true," Vector insisted. "Just because a student scores well does not mean that his or her teacher does a good job." She waved her hand in the air. "Take Miss Hermione Granger for example. Because she is highly self-motivated, she will do her best and no doubt out-score the rest of the school regardless of any teacher input."

Dolores Umbridge sniffed, pinched her lips together, and tapped her foot. "You _might_ have a slight point. I will discuss the matter with Cornelius. However, things will remain in place for this year." She those last words, she twirled about and flounced from the room, a plump lump of pink and pearls.

Dumbledore sighed loudly and stood slowly. "I am unsure exactly how to follow that," he declared bluntly. "I will do my best to speak with the School Board to see what can be done to mitigate these - challenging - work conditions. Please do your best not to fret and enjoy your weekend."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

This chapter's title comes from Paul Simon's "Kodachrome."


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. This little story is dedicated to all my teacher friends.

I borrowed heavily from this website: as well as several websites documenting current state teacher requirements.

Please review.

 **CHAPTER 2 - "If I Only Had a BRAIN"**

 **Sept. 29, 1995 - Brain-based, Research And Instructional Needs-** **to-Know**

The staff of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry sat around the staffroom table like caged animals. Even Headmaster Dumbledore, usually a bastion of calm, was fidgeting around in his chair, making it squeak.

It was now twenty after six. The ticking of Flitwick's newest pocket watch, intrusive as a lava flow, attested to this fact, sounding louder and louder as they waited. Severus, with an instinctive urge to annoy, kept up a rhythmic counterpoint by tapping his long fingers on the table top.

Minerva clenched her jaw, and laid her hand atop his to stifle their movements. It was a motherly gesture, and the look he returned was one of sullen adolescence. But the humor of the situation relieved their overwrought nerves.

Somewhat.

"Headmaster," Hagrid asked from his place at the end of the table. "Wha' are we doing jus' sittin' here? I thought ya called this meeting -"

" - for six in the evening," muttered Hooch just loudly enough to be heard.

" - the day before the first Hogsmeade weekend," added Pince sourly.

"For some of you," Burbage retorted angrily. "The rest of us are still meeting with parents!"

Binns shifted around, above, and through his seat. The ghost gestured broadly around the room. "And yet, we're all sitting here doing nothing as if we had all the time in the world."

The door opened simultaneously with Dumbledore's mouth. "Ahem," Dolores Umbridge coughed delicately, as she entered on a cloud of cloying perfume. Her heels clacked on the stone floor as she bustled her way to the center of the table with all the charm and grace of a winged hippo. With an arrogant swish of her wand, Professor Trelawney and Irma Pince were unceremoniously swept apart, giving her enough room to plop down in a hastily summoned winged back chair. Hovering behind her like an ominous cloud of doom were stacks of glittering green books, on the cover of which was a shiny, gelatinous mass resembling a human brain.

"Thank you all so much for taking the time to meet with me," Umbridge simpered. Then, she caught sight of Hermione Granger. "What's _she_ doing here? Students are _not_ allowed at staff meetings!"

"It's quite all right, Dolores. I assure you," Dumbledore said softly. "She's Professor McGonagall's ward." His blue eyes, normally twinkling with good humor, were laser points. "I give you my solemn word that the girl will cause no trouble."

Umbridge cleared her throat and ducked her chin, gathering herself to start again. Then she raised her eyes coyly at them. "First, let me say that the Ministry and myself as High Inquisitor would like to thank you all for all the hard work you've put into this school. Hogwarts is an icon of learning in the magical world," she told them as she wiggled her bottom more firmly into the chair. "But after reviewing last year's O. W. L. and N. E. W. T. scores, the Ministry feels that there is room for improvement."

Sprout, elbows on the table, muttered darkly into her clasped hands and hung her head. Dumbledore frowned apologetically, and began his constant fidget-squeaking again. What sounded distinctly like a stream of foul language came from Hooch's direction. Minerva lifted her hand from Severus', and he began tapping on the table again.

"How is that possible?" ventured Flitwick. "For more years than I can remember ou students' scores have placed our school as the best in Europe." He frowned at Umbridge. "If we rank the number one spot, how can we need to improve?"

"That's just it," Umbridge smiled at him. Her pearly white teeth gleamed red with the reflection of the setting sun as it shone through the staffroom window, making a bloody smear on her face. "Mr. Filch," she said, turning to address the caretaker, "as the Ministry has found not a single thing wrong with your performance, you may be dismissed from the rest of this meeting and all others, after, of course, you light some candles."

"Allow me, Dolores," Dumbledore said with a smile that equaled Umbridge's. Suddenly the room was brilliantly lit.

His effortless, non-verbal, wandless magic set her back a pace but only for a moment. "Umm, yes, thank you, Albus," she said gaily. "Now, the Ministry has selected several areas where they feel we need to concentrate our improvements, beginning with the overall low N. E. W. T. scores."

"I'm sorry to disagree with you," Flitwick stated persistently. He frowned and paused to push his spectacles up. "But, I distinctly remember our scores. I have run the statistics myself every year for the past forty-five years. Our scores always outrank the rest of the magical schools in Europe." His face was beginning to turn pink.

"You don't understand," she told him sweetly. The condescension in her tone fairly oozed onto the table. "Oh, I know the numbers _look_ as if our scores are in the lead, but, actually, in terms of authentic, 'real world' scenarios, we are not closing the achievement gap."

"Wha'?" Hagrid asked in confusion. He squinted across the table to Dumbledore. "Wha'd she say?"

"Nothing, Rubeus," the Headmaster responded blithely.

Flitwick began again. His pink face had deepened to a rosy red. "I must strenuously disagree," he avowed. "Our scores indicate that -"

"Dear," Pomona Sprout said softly, "please calm down. It can't be good for your blood pressure to get yourself all worked up over _nothing_." She patted her tiny husband's arm and nodded to Dumbledore.

With a snooty sniff, Umbridge prattled on, "There is a distinct cognitive disequilibrium between the magical schools in Europe."

"Among," Aurora Sinistra said just loudly enough to be heard.

"Of course there is," Snape agreed crossly. "There is a colossal disparity among the institutions of supernatural erudition. Hogwarts far exceeds her ostensible opposition."

Dolores paused, uncertain of what the two professors meant. She shook her head and plowed on. "What we must seek with a laser-like focus is data-driven improvements which include experiential based learning processes."

Hagrid shook his head, and his mighty beard wagged back and forth. "I don' know wha' it is yore sayin', but if there's a problem, I'm willin' ta help."

"You say there's an achievement gap," Burbage chimed in, "but we don't agree."

Umbridge pinched her lips together angrily. "The _Ministry_ says there is an achievement gap. Are you deliberately trying to sabotage the data-driven plans for our school? Are you attempting to derail the synergistic and social constructivist designs the Ministry has formed after exhaustively collecting and collating the expert data from around Europe?"

Hooch, startled at the venom coming from Umbridge, leapt to her friend's aid. "No, Charity meant no disrespect, I'm sure. She's just tired. It's been a long day. It's been a long week. It's been a long month."

"If the Ministry has collected and collated the data from around Europe, they can see that our scores have beaten every other school for the last forty-five years," argued a still mutinous Flitwick. A blue vein in his forehead stood out against his mauve face.

"You aren't authorized to adequately determine that fact," Umbridge shot back with a supercilious sniff.

"Numbers don't lie," Flitwick returned angrily. Angry red splotches shot up his neck. "Back me up on this, Septima!"

"He's right," Septima Vector said gently. "I've re-checked his figures for the last ten years, and he's spot on. Our scores far exceed the other magical schools in Europe particularly in the areas of Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, and Astronomy."

"Yes, yes, yes," Umbridge shouted, "that's what the scores _look_ like, but an in-depth study across cognitive and affective domains show differently. However, let me remind you, in no uncertain terms, that I have been appointed High Inquisitor by the Ministry, and my decisions stand." She paused, huffing for breath, her cheeks pink. "Now, I'll show you all the data if you insist, but it will only prolong this meeting, and if you want to retain your jobs, you'll simply have to get with the program."

Poppy stood, earning an evil glare from Umbridge. "It's very close to dinner." She smiled, seeking to diffuse the situation. "I'm sure everyone's sugar levels are low. Shall we break for dinner?"

"What a marvelous idea, Poppy!" Sprout beamed her approval.

"Yes, I thought I heard a stomach or two grumbling," Hooch added. "I know mine is."

Immediately, the group rose and herded themselves towards the door en masse. Unfortunately, they weren't fast enough.

Umbridge's face twitched like a rabbit on cocaine. "That won't be necessary," she said once she had reined in her anger. "Heffy!" she called out, summoning the house elf that had been assigned to her, "Please have the kitchen elves bring our evening meal here to the staff room. Muggles call it a 'working lunch,' or so I'm told. Tee Hee!" She patted her pudgy hands together in child-like glee. "Please, do sit back down," she added as their dinners suddenly appeared on the table.

A general mumbling was heard as the group lumbered its way back around the table. A few voices could be heard above the general grumbling.

"And don't you dare say another word, Filius," hissed Pomona Sprout.

" - got diarrhea of the mouth, I tell you," Burbage whispered to Hooch.

"Don't forget constipation of the brain," Vector added.

Only Dumbledore remained at the door. "I think I'll just run along to the Great Hall," Dumbledore said with a mock smile. "The children, you know, shouldn't be left too long with only Filch to watch them. I'll check back in with you later."

"Yes, we'll definitely talk later, Mickey," Minerva replied with a tart smile of her own.

Severus, seemingly out of touch with the rest of the group, begun to sing softly as the elves went about quietly setting up dinner at the staffroom table. "When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck/Sayin, 'Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.'/ At seven PM a main hatchway caved in…"

Dumbledore froze in the doorway. His once-upon-a-time sunny blue eyes melted for a moment, and his face blanched when he understood the hidden messages. Quickly, he left.

"Why, Severus," cooed Aurora, "what a lovely baritone you have."

Laughter echoed around the room.

Umbridge was totally confused, but she didn't dare show it. Instead, she pretended not to hear. Hermione, however, leaned towards Charity Burbage and whispered, "What's it all about? I don't understand."

Burbage grinned and whispered behind her napkin. "Minerva called Albus a rat. Mickey Mouse, Rickey Rat, get it?"

Hermione giggle. "And Professor Snape's singing?"

"Another jab at Dumbledore," Burbage replied. "He was singing about a sinking ship. Rats always leave a sinking ship first."

Poppy sighed. "All right, Dolores, can we get on with the meeting?"

"Aye," Hagrid boomed, "if we're ta close this cognatoe gap, we'd best be doin' it before those cognatoes all escape, yeah?"

"True, true," intoned Trelawney solemnly. She leaned forward, and her beads draggled through her mash. "The cognitive world opens into the meta-cognitive; ergo summa, the physical views through the metaphysical."

"Wha'?" Hagrid asked.

"Never mind, Rubeus, dear," McGonagall said briskly. "So, Dolores, what exactly does the Ministry want us to do now?"

"Why we start with a curriculum that is designed around brain-based learning," Umbridge answered with genuine delight.

"Cerebrum, cerebellum, medulla," Trelawney began counting on her fingers. "Serotonin, Serengeti, spaghetti…"

"And with what other organ would you advocate students learn?" drawled Snape. "That is, assuming they _have_ brains in the first place?"

"I seem to recall that some youngsters," McGonagall quipped crisply, "respond better to butt-based learning." She sniffed and arched an eyebrow at Sprout. "A good paddling has stood a few of them a great deal better than detention at times."

Hagrid laughed, a great booming sound. "Too true, P'fessor, too true."

"No, no, you don't understand," Umbridge said emphatically. She was beginning to quiver with sullen anger again.

"All right, Dolores," Rolanda Hooch stated bluntly. "Calm down; there's no need to get all upset."

"I'm not upset," she insisted. "Everyone is just refusing to understand. What I am proposing is of paramount importance to the Ministry."

Charity said slowly and carefully, as if she were speaking with a mental patient. "Why don't you just explain?"

With a decisive sniff, she started again. "As I was saying, in order to enhance the learning of our students and keep ourselves abreast of the newest and best practices in the field of teaching, we must develop B. R. A. I. N. based learning. This stands for 'Brain-based, Research And Instructional Needs-to-Know.' Here is your book. The Ministry has, at great expense, purchase one for each of you."

Slowly the stack of books floated around the table until each one hovered menacingly in front of a staff member. One by one the staff members reluctantly reached for the book.

"Why, thank you, Dolores," Irma Pince declared with bright derision. "It's just what I needed, another book!"

"Now, don't be so sarcastic," Hooch told Irma. "I'm sure the library will benefit from having a copy."

"This is not for the children to read," asserted Umbridge in a scandalous tone. "If you're all finished eating?"

"It seems my appetite vanished," Aurora pronounced with annoyance as the gelatinous brain wriggled and jiggled at her from the front cover of the book.

"Yes, we're done," Sprout announced, having spoken with her tiny husband. An irate Flitwick had vowed not to speak another word.

"Meself, I could do wit' another bit o' -" Hagrid began to say.

"Now, Rubeus, I'm sure the elves can bring you something later if you're still hungry after the meeting, hmm?" Poppy suggested.

"Can we get back to the meeting? _Please?_ " Umbridge might have stated it as a polite question, but her strident tones left no doubt that this was a demand. She clapped her hands imperiously and, having summoned the house elves, required them to remove their repast.

"This book, The Behavior of Bewitching Brains, was written by a most impotent wizard," she gushed loudly.

"Important, imminent," Aurora Sinistra added softly.

Just as quietly, Severus chimed in with, "Imperative, impending."

"Oh, I don't know," McGonagall murmured, "who's to say she wasn't right the first time?"

"Game to McGonnagal," Hooch declared with a snicker.

Umbridge stared at the four of them. "If you are quite finished with your immature shenanigans, we will continue the meeting. If not, then you may find yourselves without a job come morning."

"I see," Sybil murmured, a glazed look in her eye, "I see a vision!" She stood, hands wavering at something only she could perceive "There!" she shrieked. "In the distant - no, the past - no, the near - the near future! Yes, I see, I see, I see an empty castle, broken and forlorn, upon a hill." She froze in that position, both hands outstretched, clawing into the air for something that wasn't there.

"Get her out of here!" Dolores yelled, her face a deep magenta. "She is causing an erruption to the learning process!"

Sinistra and Snape smirked silently at each other.

"I'll take care of her," Charity offered gently. "Hermione can take notes for me." Burbage stood and gently took Trelawney by the arm. "Come along, Sybil. That's a good, dear. Here, don't forget your book the nice lady gave you."

Dolores Umbridge snorted with ill-disguised impatience. She narrowed her piggy little eyes and cast a look of pure, unadulterated hatred at the rest of the staff. "The first one of you," she growled deep in her throat like a tractor in low gear, "who interrupts me again will be summarily dismissed."

Several minutes passed in utter silence.

"Now," she said brightly in her best girlish voice, "just like your pupils, you will have an assignment. You are to read through this book and find one instructional strategy that we, as a cohesive teaching community, can utilize to enhance the learning of our children." She paused, daring anyone to say a word. "The strategies in this book are well researched and based on magical, medical evidence." Another pause. A longer one. "You will work in pairs for this assignment," she added as she pulled out a parchment. "Here are the randomly chosen pairs: Burbage and Trelawney, Sinistra and Vector, Flitwick and Hagrid, Binns and Sprout, McGonagall and Snape."

Without another word, Umbridge stood up from her chair and flounced from the room like a rhino in heat, slamming the door behind her.

"You didn't get a partner, Professor Hooch," Hermione spoke up. Her soft voice sounded much louder in the quiet.

Hooch turned and pierced the younger witch through with her yellow eyes. "And if you know what's good for you, Missy, you'll not say another word about it!"

Everyone laughed. "The girl's no tale teller," McGonagall affirmed. "Ok," she sighed, "it looks like we have to do this or get sacked. Suggestions?"

"Poison?"

"Severus!"

"Although I'm inclined to agree with Severus," Filius admitted, "I think it's time we worked smarter, not harder. I've noticed that this book has exactly ten chapters, and there are ten of us." The smaller man placed a hand on Hagrid's shoulder, compassion in his eyes. "Rubeus, are you still have trouble with your eyes?"

Hagrid frowned and looked confused. "My eyes? I don' rightly know what you mean."

"When you read," Filius urged. "Don't your eyes bother you when you try to read?" He raised an eyebrow, urging the larger man to understand.

When understanding came, so did a few tears. "Aye, Filius, it's just as you say."

"That won't be a problem. Hermione can read your part. After all, she hasn't got a partner either," Professor Flitwick stated with a wink at the girl. "Now, here's my plan. If each of us reads only one chapter of this blasted book like that pink she-toad wants, we'll be done with it and none the wiser."

Aurora Sinistra cried, "And each group will be able to give her two strategies! Great thinking, Filius."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

This chapter's title comes from the Scarecrow in the movie The Wizard of Oz.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. This little story is dedicated to all my teacher friends. I borrowed heavily from several websites documenting current state teacher requirements.

Please review.

 **CHAPTER 3-** **"We're all in this hand-basket together."**

 **Oct. 6, 1995 - Monthly reports**

"How did your meetings go?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Only a long, cold silence answered him. He let it drag out for a few minutes, and when no one spoke, he sighed and shifted in his chair. "I spoke with the Board, and I'm afraid there is nothing I can do. We'll simply have to deal with this the best way we can."

'Augusta Longbottom," Severus enunciated with deadly precision. All eyes turned to face him. "Augusta Longbottom demands that I spend my 'extra time' personally tutoring her grandson."

"That's nothing," replied Flitwick steadily. "Roger Davies' parents had the audacity to tell me _how_ I should count his grades. They were unhappy because he had an 'exceeds expectations' instead of an 'outstanding' grade in charms."

Minerva snorted. "And I must have spent an hour with Dreathus Cadwalladar's father," she huffed. She deepened her voice in imitation of the man. "I understand that my boy is failing almost every subject, but will he still be allowed to play quidditch?"

Dumbledore held out his hands in surrender. "I know," he told them. "I fielded similar questions, I can assure you." He shook his head and ticked them off one by one on his fingers. "Why can't my child have his own personal house elf? He has one at home." He held his right forefinger. "Can my child be allowed extra time in town on Hogsmeade weekends? She is doing so well; I'd like her to be rewarded." His second finger joined the first. "Would you make Professor Sprout allow my son to re-do all of the assignments on which he made a Troll grade? I'm sure she can do better if you allow her more study time." A third finger joined the other two. "And then there was the rather angry Muggle mother who insisted her daughter be moved from Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw. It seems that blue is a much becoming color for her daughter's complexion than yellow."

A round of sympathetic laughter followed that. It was immediately dampened by the arrival of High Inquisitor Umbridge. Her heels clattered on the stone floor as she pranced briskly to her seat. She was followed by three House elves bearing large hand-baskets full of scrolls, parchments, and other menacing items. "Good evening, staff," she said brightly. "I hope everyone is ready to begin today's meetings."

"Dolores," Dumbledore questioned carefully, "how many of these meetings does the Ministry think we need? My teachers are tired and overworked."

She paused for a moment before waving a manicured hand towards the table. "Heffy, just set the hand-baskets in the middle there." Like an overloaded barge rolling on high seas, she settled into her chair and began brushing fine, white hair from her skirt. When she was finished, she frowned at Dumbledore. "Let's see," she simpered. "We'll need to meet once a month to review lesson plans, and once a month for training purposes, and once a month for reviewing student progress." She looked up at him. "Only three times a month."

"And the fourth weekend will be taken up with chaperoning Hogsmeade weekends," declared Minerva.

"When do we get time to mark papers?" Burbage complained.

"We need time to conduct club meetings," added Flitwick crossly.

"And what about time for quidditch practice?" shouted an irritated Hooch. "And the matches?"

"Not to mention have a personal life?" grumbled Aurora Sinistra.

As Dumbledore looked around at his staff, he became aware that he was going to have to do something. Quickly, too, or there was sure to be a mutiny the likes of which hadn't been seen since Bligh was set adrift. He could already imagine Severus, like Fletcher Christian, leading the assault on the High Inquisitor.

True to his Gryffindor nature, the old man squared his shoulders and prepared to do battle with the old battle-axe. "Dolores," he said, a gentle, grandfatherly smile, on his lips, "I am utterly impressed with your dedication to Hogwarts and her students."

From around the table an ocean of evil glares battered him like storm waves, but Dolores merely blinked at him in confusion. He pressed the charge. "After all, not only do you have to attend these meetings as a member of staff, but you also have to prepare for them as a representative of the Ministry." He tilted his head. "You must be exhausted. Aren't you tired?"

Umbridge heaved a dramatic sigh. "Of course, I am, Albus," she declared in melodramatic tones of long-suffering, "but I must endure. It is, after all, for the benefit of the children."

He nodded in commiseration. "I do understand." Setting his clasped hands on the table, he said as if in thought, "If there were only some way to lighten your load." He paused. "Perhaps I could help you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked quickly, suddenly suspicious.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied off-hand. "Maybe I could conduct some of these meetings for you? Or maybe I could - I'm not sure, Dolores. With what sort of things would you like help? Just tell me what to do."

That caught her - hook, line, and sinker. Dolores Umbridge was not willing to give up a chance to tell Albus Dumbledore what to do. "Well, now that you mention it," she said with a dimpled smile, "you could handle all the paperwork for the student reviews." She gave a gracious gesture towards the staff. "It would free up the staff from one monthly meeting."

"I would be delighted to assist you," Dumbledore cried with joy. "And, if I may suggest?" When she nodded regally, he continued. "As it happens, I have a great number of years - more than I'd care to admit - of experience writing and checking lesson plans. If you would allow me, and, truthfully, it is the Headmaster's job to do so, I would be more than willing to review all lesson plans."

The High Inquisitor hesitated only a moment. "Yes, I think that would work," she told him primly. "That would reduce staff meetings to only once a month."

"Like a menstrual cycle," Pomona Sprout muttered causing Hermione to giggle.

Umbridge added, "After today's meeting, we will only meet the last Friday of every month for training purposes." She pointed imperially at two of the baskets on the table. "You may take those to check," she informed Dumbledore. "The first basket contains the lesson plans which have been turned in. Only one staff member hasn't completed his plans. Apparently he thinks he doesn't have to follow the rules."

Cuthbert Binns spoke up. "I didn't turn them in," he admitted, "to you." He floated above his seat. "I submitted my lesson plans to Headmaster Dumbledore just last week. You, missy, are just some Ministry toad trying to become the next Mrs. Cornelius Fudge."

Smirks, snorts, and giggles went round the room. Severus began lightly whistling the children's song "Froggy Went A-Courting."

Dolores Umbridge's face darkened with anger. "Well," she cried, "I never!"

"Nor is she likely to, either, what with that face," Charity Burbage said softly.

"Well, if you haven't," Cuthbert Binns retorted, "it's not been for lack of trying." He rose until he hovered over the table, looking down on her. "Might I remind you that I deal in facts? And I remember when you were a student, missy, and what shenanigans you got up to!" He turned and sailed straight through the door.

When silence finally returned to the room, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Hermione, would you please take notes for Professor Binns?" he asked. "I'm sure once he calms down, he'll be more amenable. I'll just explain to him the importance of your work, Dolores. I'm sure it's all just a simple misunderstanding."

He reached for the basket of lesson plans and pulled them towards him. "I'll get started on the lesson plans," he added gently. "And you were saying about the other basket? I find myself most intrigued by any ideas you may have concerning helping our students."

Gathering her tattered dignity about her, Dolores Umbridge sat up straight. She sniffed and coughed twice. "The second basket contains the student review paper work. Each teacher will have to document all of their failing students through H. E. L. L. forms."

Dumbledore and his staff stared blankly at the woman.

"Hell forms?" Trelawney questioned. "What, what are hell forms?" She turned to Septima Vector and pulled her sleeve. "Septima, what are hell forms? Has anyone here ever heard of hell forms?"

"No," retorted Snape, "but by now we're all familiar many forms of hell."

"It's H. E. L. L.," Umbridge declared as she launched into her perky, little lecture voice. "That stands for Helping Evolve Lower Learners. You see, whenever a student is failing, you must document why that student is failing and what developmentally appropriate strategies you have used to address the problem. These H. E. L. L. forms will be up-dated monthly to determine if your strategies are working."

Flitwick asked, "So, you are asking us to make a list of our student who are failing, analyze the reasons they are failing, and take steps to help them be successful?"

"But we do that anyway," protested Charity. "Any good teacher does."

"Yes," Umbridge said brightly, "so there's really no change to what you're doing at all. You will simply fill in a H. E. L. L. form for each failing child for documentation purposes. Along with the form, you will need to submit five analyzed work samples for each failing student."

"Why must we prove we are doing our jobs?" Aurora Sinistra asked angrily.

"This is just a lot of unnecessary paper work," Sprout scoffed.

Choosing to ignore them, Umbridge merely continued speaking directly to Dumbledore. "You and I will meet once a month to review each H. E. L. L. form." Raising her voice above the grumblings of the staff, she added, "Unless the staff would like to meet once a month to review student progress."

Every mumble, grumble, and moan ceased. Dolores grinned enormously. "Before you go, though," she said, stopping Dumbledore before he could leave, "you need to be aware of a new break-through in wizarding technology." She reached for a very large basket, but she was unable to lift it. It was heavy and filled with several squares of wood. Each one was painted a bright, glowing green, and they were numbered.

Dumbledore kept an unwavering smile on his face, at least until he sat back down. "Of course, Dolores," he said. "Severus, would you be so kind as to assist High Inquisitor Umbridge with that basket."

Severus raised a brow in disbelief, but he stood and pulled the weighty basket towards him.

"The Ministry has created a wonderful new charmed device that will make your jobs infinitely easier," Dolores explained. "Thank you." She handed Snape a sheet of parchment. "Please sign your name and the number of your Student Tracker Disk, or S. T. D. when Severus gives you one."

Severus froze, the quill trembling in his long fingers. His face began to convulse wildly as he frantically tried to contain his laughter. Just as he mastered this features and scrawled his signature on the parchment, he caught sight of Septima Vector and Granger girl.

Hermione was sitting ramrod straight, her bottom lip clenched fiercely between her white teeth. She was doing all she could to keep from bursting out with laughter.

"Miss Granger," he said, offering the basket to her, "For Professor Binns?"

A single drop of blood welled up on Hermione's abused lower lip, but she did not laugh. Quickly, she scribbled on the parchment, snatched up a green device, and lowered her flaming red face.

"Septima, dear," he purred, "do allow me to give you an S. T. D."

Septima Vector, silently shaking with laughter, squeezed her eyes shut. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She opened them only long enough to scribble her initials and grab the device.

"Aurora," Severus whispered, making her name sound like a sin, "if you could choose, which S. T. D. would you like?"

"Why, Severus, dear," she whispered huskily in return, "I'll take whichever one you've got." She positively leered at him as she took the green square and signed her name with a flourish.

Snape, holding the device upon his open palms like an offering, turned to McGonagall. "Minerva," he sighed, "I'm ready to give you an S. T. D."

"I'll bet you are," she retorted as she arched an eye brow. "Been wanting to say that for twenty years, haven't you?" She laughed softly. "All right, young man," she chided him, "you've had enough fun for one night." She took the basket from him and quickly distributed the green disks to the rest of the confused Pureblood staff members.

A frown of bewilderment on her face, Umbridge shot guarded glares at Snape and the others. "Ahem, Ahem," she cleared her throat, demanding their attention. "Well, now, as I was saying your new Student Tracker Disk will make your teaching job much easier. It is charmed to hold all of the academic records for all of your students for their entire student career at Hogwarts."

"We already have that," Flitwick declared. He looked around at Snape's smug smirk, Septima and Hermione's embarrassed faces, Sinistra's smile of jaded amusement, and McGonagall's sneaky grin. "I think," he muttered.

"We do," Babbling confirmed. "It's called a grade book."

Dumbledore, a puzzled frown on his face, flipped his device end over end. "I'm sorry, Dolores, but I don't seem to understand. Would you explain how this works?"

Smiling broadly, she wiggled in her seat. "Of course," she replied like a queen granting a royal boon. "Tap the S. T. D. once with your wand to activate the device." She looked up and down the table to see everyone tapping away and was rewarded when each device began to glow. "As you hold your wand to the device, the rows of data stored inside will move up and down, giving you instant access to all the grades of every student you teach."

"I'm tell you," Babbling said loudly, "we already have a 'device' like this. Our grade books work the same way."

"No, they do not," insisted Umbridge. "These new charmed S. T. D. devices are infinitely superior. "They take up less room!"

"They're heavier!" argued Pomona.

"They are faster to use!" Umbridge countered.

"They're fragile, easier to break!" Vector complained.

"They are the latest in charm development!" shouted Umbridge.

"Then they are more expensive!" Sinistra added. "How much is this costing the tax payers?"

"Well, it's a waste of time, and I'm not about to use it," Minerva stated bluntly. She set the device on the table.

"Now, now, ladies, ladies, please," Dumbledore said as he tried to soothe them.

"You most certainly will use it," Dolores insisted angrily, shouting over Dumbledore. "The Ministry requires that you use them, and there is an added tracking charm built into each of them to count the number of times you access the data." Her voice was growing louder and shriller with every word. "You will all be required to access the data inside your assigned device at least five hundred times a month!"

"What?" Professor Babbling asked. "Do you mean to say that, rather than concentrate on actual teaching this year, we have to check our student's past grades up to five hundred times a month?"

"You must access the device at _least_ five hundred times a month," Umbridge confirmed. "The Ministry will be tracking your use, and anyone who fails to complete his or her assigned duties may very well find themselves sacked. And that's the end of the matter!" She stood. "The meeting is now over." She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

One by one, the professors looked around the table. Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "I am truly sorry," he told them. Slowly, the old man stood. He pointed his wand at the baskets of lesson plans and student reviews. A quick flick of his wand sent both baskets to his office. "I'll do my best to keep her busy." With those last words, Dumbledore left.

Bathsheda Babbling was the first to break the dismal silence around the room. "Well, that's it," she said as she set her hands firmly on the table. "I'm done with all of Dolores Umbridge's asinine requirements." Pushing herself up from her chair, she gathered her things, pointedly ignoring the green device. "I'm the only qualified professor of Ancient Runes within the United Kingdom. Replacing me at this point will be nearly impossible." She slid the S.T.D. device across the table towards Snape. "Here, Snape, you seemed to get such a kick out of the thing. It's yours." She marched towards the door.

The door shut with a soft snick. "The rest of us aren't so lucky," Pomona Sprout said. Her hands shook as she covered her face, and her voice trembled. "I just don't think I can handle any more stress."

"There, there," Filius said, as he gather her against his shoulder. "We need a plan."

"I've got it," Severus said. He arched an eyebrow and gave them his most sneaky grin. "Set the damned thing on your desk. Then, during every class, have at least four students come forward and tap it with their wands."

Filius laughed aloud. "Brilliant as usual, Severus," he cried. "Four students from every class will make twenty-eight students, tapping each day for twenty days is five hundred sixty."

"And while they are at our desk," Vector added, "we can do a quick one-on-one check for understanding."

"I'd suggest we leave quickly," Minerva announced as she stood and gathered her thing. "The she-toad may return, and we don't want to be here when she does. It's bad enough we have to meet with her again at the end of the month."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The title of this chapter comes from the idiom "Going to hell in a hand-basket."


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. This little story is dedicated to all my teacher friends.

I borrowed heavily from several websites for educational jargon as well as those documenting current state teacher requirements.

Please review.

 **CHAPTER 4- "** Fools are my theme, let satire be my song." Lord Byron

 **Oct. 30, 1995 - Team taught, Hands-On, Educational Methods, Experiences, and Strategies**

"What could be so bad about a staff meeting?" Sirius Black asked as he walked towards the staffroom with his co-workers.

"Just look when it's scheduled," Hooch complained

"Six in the evening," muttered Charity.

"On the day before the Halloween Feast," added Vector.

The last four staff members entered the room and plopped down in their chairs. "Hey," Hooch called out, "where're Hagrid, Trelawney, Poppy, and Pince?"

"What is Black doing here?" Snape whispered fiercely to McGonagall. "You said he wouldn't begin until after the first of the year."

Minerva never even looked up from her grading. She snorted, and whispered back, "When Cuthbert Binns heard that he was going to be replaced, he refused to attend any more of _her_ meetings."

"The others, apparently," Sinistra replied snidely, "are considered non-essential teaching staff and were not required to attend."

"She said that Dumbledore's presence wasn't required either," Burbage added.

"That was very kind of your husband to help Hagrid out with his reading disability," Aurora Sinistra whispered to Pomona Sprout.

Pomona beamed at the Astronomy professor. "He is a kind soul," she admitted softly. "What's more, he has someone working with Hagrid in the early mornings to help him with his reading."

Hermione leaned across the table. When she spoke, there was puzzlement in her voice. "I can understand, somewhat, why the non-teaching staff, like Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pince, aren't required to be here," she said. "And I do understand about Hagrid, but where is Professor Trelawney? She isn't ill, is she? Shouldn't someone go check on her? I mean, she was awfully overwrought at the September meeting."

Charity Burbage burst out laughing. "Oh, Hermione, don't you worry about Sybil. There's method in her madness, that one!"

Hermione frowned. "But she seemed so, oh, I don't know! Keyed-up? High strung?"

Burbage laughed louder, and this time she was joined by Sprout and Sinistra. "She's not so crazy, Granger," Hooch confided in her. "Sybil uses that ditzy act. She got out of the last meeting and this one, too, didn't she?"

Flitwick, lips clamped together, looked up from his grading when the door opened. Slowly, he set aside his stack of graded papers and watched the newcomer with phony excitement.

Dolores Umbridge, preceded by odorous waves of some unspecified flowery scent, entered the room. She smiled grandly and made queenly waving gestures at the staff gathered around the table. Right behind her, like a squad of personal body guards, came a collection of Hogwarts house elves with dinner.

"I thought, to prevent any misunderstanding arising from low blood sugar," she said sweetly, as she folded her hands and batted her eyes at Flitwick, "that we would have dinner before the actual meeting." She clapped her hands and the elves proceeded to present dinner.

With a collective sigh, which Umbridge mistook for eagerness to eat, the staff tucked into their meal. She waited until most of them were chewing to ask, "So, did anyone read any interesting strategies from The Behavior of Bewitching Brains?"

Filius swallowed hard and dropped his fork and knife with a clatter.

"Oh, thank you for volunteering, Filius, dear," Umbridge chirped. She puckered her lips at him and batted her eyes.

Sprout threw her napkin on her plate and hissed angrily to her long-time friend, Minerva. "If she bats her eyes at him in that quasi-flirtatious manner just one more time, I'll -"

"You'll hold his head while he hangs over the toilet to vomit," McGonngal whispered back harshly. "Now, hush, let the Toad be done with this!"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am quite ready to begin," Flitwick said with a huge grin.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Umbridge cried with joy and clapped her pudgy little hands. "I just knew a learned man like yourself would see the light."

Professor Filius Flitwick smiled all the wider. "Of course, Dolores, dear," he said suavely, "now I did, indeed, read something, that while utterly fascinating in content was somewhat confusing in context. I was hoping that you could explain it."

"Of course, dear," she purred. "Oh, but wait!" She jumped. "I nearly forgot your notebooks!"

"Note. Books?" Severus demanded. He shoved away his plate and glared at Umbridge.

"Of course," she said simply and sweetly. "How else will you take your notes?"

Again, she clapped her hands. The elves stepped forward to remove their half-eaten dinners and leave behind for each staff member a rainbow colored notebook and an apologetic semi-smile.

"Where are the quills?" Vector asked bluntly. "If we're to take notes, we'll need quills." She crossed her arms. "What?" she demanded angrily of the rest of the staff who were glaring daggers at her. "The sooner we start, the sooner we can be done."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten the quills or the ink," Umbridge smiled. "I'll hand them out later. I don't want anyone distracted from the group discussion." She swished her wand and a chalk board appeared at the head of the table. "Now, this is a state-of-the-art Magi-Board. It's charmed to magically print whatever anyone says." She held aloft a silver and white quartz-tipped quill

She smiled as looks of surprise shown on each face. "Now, when I point to you with the stylus, you will name a brain-based, research and instructional strategy. It will instantly show on the board where we can all see and discuss it. After we discuss everyone's contribution, I'll explain to you how to copy it into your notebooks later."

" _How_ to copy it?" McGonagall asked softly. "What the hell does that mean?"

With a grandiose gesture, she pointed the stylus at Flitwick. "Go ahead, Filius, dear. You may begin."

Filius cleared his throat. "If it is through the use of hands-on skill centers and a curriculum of greater depth that our performance driven schools will be able to facilitate critical thinking skills to produce university and career ready graduates for a global 21st century world, how are we to embrace this new schema to harness the power of these new paradigms and begin to think outside the box?"

"My thoughts exactly!" echoed Charity Burbage. Surreptitiously, she nudged Rolanda Hooch with her foot.

"Well, would you look at that!" Hooch declared loudly, pointing to the Magi-Board. "Every single thing he said instantly showed up on that board!"

Umbridge preened. "I told you it would! It's the latest, state-of-the-art Magi-Board. Each of you will be given one that you must use in the classroom at least twice weekly."

"It looks very helpful," McGonagall conceded, "but the old method of enchanting the chalk works just as well."

"But your way is a slower way," Umbridge replied.

"Many of the students need that extra time, Dolores," Minerva argued, "to copy down the information. Now, some students like Hermione, for instance, can move much more rapidly, but others -"

"Excuse me, but you haven't answered my question," Flitwick said politely.

Umbridge interrupted them both with a wild waving of her hands. "I can feel your negativity from here," she snapped. "Let's try another example." She aimed the stylus at Granger. "Go ahead, girl. Tell us what you learned."

Hermione wet her lips and glanced around the room at all of her professors. With nervous hands, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Inhaling deeply, she said, "I think I understood the book to say that students need to write more often."

"See!" Umbridge declared triumphantly as she pointed to the charmed chalk board. "It copied every word she said."

"Now, _that_ actually makes sense!" Burbage agreed. "Student writing is a problem, and we need to address that issue."

"The problem is that they don't know _how_ to write," Aurora added, "and we haven't the time to teach them."

"What if," Vector suggested, "we could create a new class just for first years to actually teach them how to write?"

"Now, that suggestion has some merit," Snape drawled.

"Stop!" Umbridge complained. "I'm the one in charge, and you're all getting off topic! I demand that you all stop talking, so we can gather the rest of our data." Silence descended. "Madam Hooch, I see your hand is raised, you may now speak." She pointed the stylus at the Flying instructor.

Hooch's yellow eyes twinkled, and she muttered under her breath just loudly enough for Hermione to hear. "This one's for Sybil." Then, taking a long, deep breath, she raised her head and in her loudest referee's voice said, "I think it's fucking high time we taught a bloody class in writing. Sweet Circe on a Cracker! These little buggers can't put two shitting sentences together. And you should hear these poor sods trying to grade the damn things! It's a piss-assy, bunghole, Merlin-be-damned time they have of it, I can tell you!"

Again, silence descended, until Sirius Black started to laugh. He laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes, and he lost his breath. Finally he laid his head on the table, wheezing like a fat, asthmatic cat, and tried desperately to breathe. Of course, he wasn't alone in his hilarity. The rest of the staff, Severus include, broke down into frenzied hilarity as well. There were subtle sniggers from Snape, great giggles from Burbage, cynical snickers from Sinistra, shrill snorts from Sprout, choking cackles from Vector, cheerful chortles from Flitwick, genuine guffaws from McGonagall.

Only Hermione and Hooch were not laughing like lunatics. Hermione held her flaming face in her hands. Her eyes were wide with shock, and her mouth hung open in alarmed astonishment. Rolanda Hooch, on the other hand, was locked in a deadly battle of eye-to-eye staring with Umbridge.

"That was not amusing!" Umbridge thundered. "I will have quiet! I will have order! Rolanda Hooch, you are dismissed from this meeting! Just wait until the Ministry hears about this! I'll have you sacked!"

With a great deal of effort, self-control, and the wiping away of tears, the staff finally settled down in time to watch an unrepentant Hooch gather her things and leave the room. Umbridge turned to glare at the now sober staff, but when she turned to face the Magi-Board, a frown of epic proportions carved itself between her eyes.

True to its created purpose, the Magi-Board had preserved for posterity, Hooch's profanely eloquent response. Umbridge, her eyes bulging and veins popping in her neck, set about in dead earnest trying to erase the offensive remark. For ten solid minutes, she swished and flicked the stylus to no avail. She did everything in her power short of incinerating the Magi-Board, but nothing worked.

"You!" she hissed as she wheeled around, shoving the stylus meaningfully at Black. "You will give me the next strategy from The Behavior of Bewitching Brains." She hesitated for a fraction of a second and lowered her voice menacingly. "And it had better be good."

Black, keeping his eyes averted from the Magi-Board, blurted out, "We will explore proactive pedagogy within professional learning communities."

"You," shouted Umbridge as she shook the stylus at Vector.

Without a moment's hesitation, Septima Vector spouted out, "We will transition emerging ESLR's across spatial and temporal scales."

"You!" Umbridge snapped. She flicked the stylus at Burbage.

Quick as a minute, the Muggle Studies professor responded, "We will reinvent subjective presentations throughout multiple modalities."

Umbridge paused to take a calming breath. "Your turn," she said bluntly, as she pointed towards Sprout.

Sprout folded her hands primly together on top of the rainbow notebook, looking like the perfect little scholar. Slowly and distinctly, she said, "We will grow integrated competencies within the new paradigm."

Umbridge nodded graciously at the Herbology teacher before turning to face the Astronomy professor. "Your turn, Aurora," she said. Her voice was now returning to her normal sugary one. She tapped the stylus in Sinistra's direction.

Aurora Sinistra raised a single brow and angled her head. "I can't remember precisely how the strategy was stated in the book, but I do distinctly remember that it reminded me of a quote by Michel de Montaigne." She paused to delicately clear her throat. When she spoke again, it was in fluent French. "Dans l'éducation des enfants, il n'y a rien comme séduisante l'intérêt et de l'affection, sinon vous ne faites que tant d' ânes chargés de livres."

McGonagall shot Sinistra a look of pure admiration, and Severus actually clapped. The rest of those at the table who could speak French were biting their lips to keep from laughing. Those who didn't were begging with their eyes for an explanation.

Umbridge, pleased with what she perceived as an academic turn to the meeting, smiled. "My, that sounds lovely," she giggled. "Professor Snape, I hope you won't allow your fellow Slytherin to out-perform you." She pointed the stylus at the Potions Master.

Severus' lip curled up ever so slightly on one side. "While my illustrious colleague speaks French like a native Parisian, I prefer the Latin." He paused, allowing his already rich baritone to deepen until he purred the words. "Stultitiae erudire potes, gratis date illi gradus summus opus, sed adhuc demens."

The room was utterly silent as the last of his words melted away like milk chocolate on a warm spring day. Then was heard one lone voice. "Oh, Severus," Flitwick said in a hushed voice.

Umbridge, tears in her eyes, clasped the stylus to her chest. "Why that sounded just beautiful, Professor Snape!" She wiped away the tears and held the stylus out towards McGonagall. "There's only one last staff member to report, and when she's finished, we can begin our new assignment. Professor McGonagal?"

Minerva McGonagall pinched her lips together and spoke in her thickest Scottish brogue. "If wee kin condookt strahteegik prahblahm-soolvin' acrost tha currrrrikoolarr eerrreeahs, then wheel murph an entuhgraytud guidin' cooahlishuns ta cloose tha ahcheevemun gahp. Boo," she paused to take a breath and hold up a finger, "inorrdorr ta doo sa, wheel need ta hextend rreel-wahrrld cone-tent in awthentik, rreel-wahrrld seenahrioos so tha' we kin culteevayt bairn-centaired netwoorks thru tha hexperee-inchal baysed larnin' proocess."

"Uh, yes, quite," Umbridge said. A tiny muscle above her left eye began to twitch ever so slightly. "I'm sure the Magi-Board caught that." She twisted her body towards the Magi-Board, her eyes never leaving McGonagall's until the very last second. What she saw was at least as intelligible as what she'd heard.

Blinking rapidly, she turned around and said in an overly-bright manner, "Well, we'll do our best. Now, take out your Rainbow Notebooks and copy everything from the Magi-Board."

"Quills?" asked Sinistra. "Ink?"

Giggling, Umbridge replied, "Oh, yes, here you are." She bent slightly down and pulled out a rainbow colored box, which she passed around. "Each one of you will take one of the Rainbow quills and multi-hued inks. You'll use these pens to copy your notes. This, in itself, is a teaching technique, color-coding the notes, you see." She giggled again.

Filius Flitwick sighed in near despair as he took two quills and ink bottles from the box. He handed one to Pomona with a sad shake of his head before passing the box over to Charity.

Charity Burbage didn't even look in the box. She just snatched the first quill and ink well that her hand lit upon, and then she shoved the box to Sirius Black.

Gallantly, Sirius held the box out to Septima Vector, allowing her to take first pick.

"Oh, I can't seem to make up my mind," Septima said with less sincerity than a politician's promise. "They're all just so pretty."

"Take your time, my sweet," Black said with chivalric valor. "And, please, if you would, do choose one for me. You have such exquisite taste."

Three minutes later, Vector's choices made, Sirius offered the box to Aurora Sinistra with an equally courteous manner. "Your turn, my dear."

Aurora, nose wrinkled in obvious distaste, leaned over the box. Gingerly, she reached into the box and extracted one quill and ink combination and held it aloft between thumb and forefinger.

Plopping down the box, Sirius shoved it across the shinny surface of the table until it stopped in front of Severus. Here the box sat.

For five, long, tension filled minutes, the box simply sat in front of the Potions Master. Severus Snape merely flicked his basilisk gaze back and forth between the hated box and the even more hated Umbridge. He was making it known, plainly and clearly, that he was refusing to pick up a quill or ink.

"Severus?" McGonagall questioned gently.

"I. Refuse," he said firmly in answer to Minerva's question. But he said it while glaring death-daggers into Umbridge's face. "I hold a Masters' level degree in Potions," he asserted boldly. "That is the equivalent of a Muggle Ph.D; therefore, _academically_ , I outrank the lot of you." His voice was taking on the dark-sharpened edge of a Death Eater. "I categorically _refuse_ to take rainbow colored notes in a rainbow colored notebook with a rainbow colored quill." With each added word, his voice hissed like all the demons in Hell.

Suddenly the one-time Death Eater bolted to his feet and with one freewheeling motion, held his wand overhead. The room erupted into chaos. Nearly everyone in the room panicked. Screams rang out, and staff members ducked beneath the table.

As the moments slowly ticked by and their fears were gone, the staff carefully crawled out from under the table to see Severus Snape, Potions Master sitting calmly in his seat. His notebook, the box, and the remaining two quills and inks were now of the darkest, blackest hue. It was as if Death itself had been liquefied and used to recolor the items. And Severus Snape, arms crossed over his chest, had already filled his black notebook.

Everyone had now recovered from their fright except Minerva McGonagall, who had never even flinched. "Oh, for the love of Merlin," she muttered. A half-grin adorned her face as she dumped over the box to claim the last quill and ink - now black, of course. Then she shoved the box towards Umbridge.

With the empty box back at her side, Umbridge sighed contentedly. "When you're done with the note-taking, you will form collaborative groups. You and your collaborative team mates must create a group lesson plan to use in your classroom. These will be called our 'themes' plans. This stands for 'Team Taught, Hands-On, Educational Methods, Experiences, and Strategies.' Now isn't that clever?"

Mumbles, grumbles, grunts, and moans were her only responses. "Right," she said quickly. "Well, team one will be McGonagall and Flitwick; team two is Sprout and Snape; team three Vector and Sinistra; and, team four Black and Burbage."

"All righty-o," Sirius chirped with fake enthusiasm, "we'll just start on those plans then." He waved his wand, causing his chair to slide closer to Burbage. She immediately followed his lead.

Soon, the other three teams had gathered, some with alarming alacrity and some with sullen slowness. "Well, then," Umbridge declared as she dusted her plump hands in the air, pinkies extended, "I'll just check on Madam Hooch and leave you to it."

No sooner had the door shut, than McGonagall called out, "Colloportus!" She shoved away the notebook in front of her. "All right," she said, with determination in her voice and grit in the eye, "the Toad wants us to plan, then plan we will!"

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Here are translations for you.

Sinistra: "In the education of children there is nothing like alluring the interest and affection, otherwise you only make so many asses laden with books." Michel de Montaigne

Snape: "You can educate an idiot, give her a degree and a high paying job, but she will still be an idiot."

McGonagall: "If we conduct strategic problem-solving across the curricular areas, then we will morph integrated guiding coalitions to close the achievement gap. But in order to do so, we will need to extend real-world content in authentic, real-world scenarios so that we can cultivate child-centered networks through the experiential based learning process."


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. This little story is dedicated to all my teacher friends.

I borrowed heavily from this website www. sciencegeek. as well as several websites documenting current state teacher requirements.

Please review.

 **CHAPTER 5 WASTE Not, Want Not**

 **Nov. 30, 1995 - Wizarding Assessments, Scaffolding, Technologies, and** **Enrichment**

"Will somebody just avada me?" Sirius groaned and dropped his head on the staffroom table. He set his rainbow colored notebook on the table and opened it to the first page. Lifting his eyes, he looked directly at Severus. "Please?"

Snape snorted. "I wouldn't give you the pleasure," he snarked in return. "If I'm stuck in this hell, then - So. Are. You!" Thwap! He threw a black book on the table.

"Boys, play nice," Charity murmured absently. "Besides you know we need both of you for today." She arranged her rainbow colored notebook on the table, opened the ink, and carefully placed the quill on top.

"Yes, save all your piss and vinegar for the Toad," added Pomona. Her rainbow notebook was already on the table, opened to a clean page.

"Is everyone ready?" McGonagall asked. "She's due to arrive at six o'clock, and we want to make sure she spends tomorrow's holiday as miserable as possible!" Her notebook, covered now in a lovely tartan plaid, lay open, but whatever was on the page was an indecipherable mess.

"Be sure to sit up straight," Flitwick added. "And no matter what she says, keep up your part with a smile."

"I wonder what color notebook we'll get this time," Septima Vector glumly asked her partner. "Did you bring the supplies?"

"Ooh, maybe we'll get lucky and get a new book instead," Aurora replied sarcastically. "Yes, I've got everything," she said with a grin as she set a box under her chair.

The door opened, and everyone tensed. Silent, with clenched jaws, they were ready for battle. But the newcomers were just Hagrid and Madam Hooch.

Hagrid moved slowly around the room until he reached the corner. "I hope this meetin' won't las' too long." He settled into the largest seat at the table and wriggled around until he felt comfortable. Carefully, he placed the rainbow notebook on the table.

"Hooch!" Sirius shouted. "I thought the Toad had sacked you!"

A grin split her face in two. "Oh, poor creature," she said with mock sadness, "it seems she hasn't the authority to dissolve a magically binding contract." She dropped into the chair next to Hagrid and set up her notebook.

Again, the door opened making everyone instantly alert. For the second time, relief flooded through them when Hermione Granger, leading Sybil Trelawney by the arm, entered the room.

"Come on, Professor Trelawney," Hermione said. Although she kept her tone polite, the faintest hint of frustration was beginning to creep in. "I've told you. You are required to be at the meeting. We both are. Now, please, professor, just take a seat." With a bit of effort, the girl pulled the Divination teacher around the table to their seats.

Trelawney gazed from behind her thickened lenses at something invisible to everyone. Hermione set out their rainbow colored notebooks, quills, and inks while Sybill nibbled on a fingernail.

Right behind them was Umbridge. "Oh, good, you're all here and ready to work," Dolores said in her patent sugar-filled voice. "I knew that sooner or later you'd all get with the program." The door behind her slammed shut, and she marched to her self-appointed place at the head of the table. She smiled at them. "We have so much to do! We'll just get right to it then." She clapped her hands together and the Magi-Board appeared.

Flitwick raised his hand. "Professor Umbridge," he said with a smile, "Dolores, I thought you said we would all get a Magi-Board to use in our classrooms. I haven't received mine."

A tiny frown crept into her eyes, but it was soon replaced by a smile. "The Ministry has ordered them. However, Magi-Boards are such a state-of-the-art learning tool that they are on back order and will not arrive for a few more days," she responded glibly as she gripped the stylus in her hand.

"Perfectly understandable," Sirius agreed with wild enthusiasm.

"Do you want us to make note of that in our RCN's?" asked Burbage, as she held aloft her quill.

"Yes, I think we should," Sirius stated firmly and began furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"I don't know either," Hooch was saying overly loudly to Hagrid. She looked around at Umbridge and asked overly-loudly, "What's an RCN, and what are we supposed to write down?"

"Quiet," Umbridge declared. She clenched her hand on the stylus.

"Oh," Burbage said with a raucous laugh, "RCN stands for 'rainbow colored notebook.' I thought it would make things simpler."

Simultaneously, Sirius Black said, "Of course, you should write it down!" He managed to look affronted. "High Inquisitor Umbridge said it, so it must be important."

"Enough!" Umbridge shouted. She slammed her hands on the table down with a loud metallic clatter. Instantly, silence fell. Carefully, she examined the stylus, and finding it still intact, she dropped it into her pocket. "Now, we will begin sharing the plans that you and your partner wrote last week." She looked imperiously around the room, her blazing eyes landing on Hagrid and Hooch. "You two, Rubeus and Rolanda, you will begin."

As Rolanda stood up, she patted Hagrid on the arm. "To be honest, Dolores, we weren't exactly sure what you wanted. You had told Hagrid that he didn't have to participate in the meetings, but later you changed your mind." She shrugged. "And I, well, I didn't get the directions." She sat back down.

"That's right," Sirius agreed. He nodded cheerfully at Umbridge. "You gave the directions after Hooch had left the room because she said -"

"Can they have extra time for the assignment?" Flitwick asked. "After all, it wasn't Rubeus' fault for not knowing what to do, and I'm sure Rolanda is very sorry for her outburst. She really didn't mean to -"

"Yes, I'm sure they'll do a whiz bang job if you give them another chance," Sirius put in.

"Stop!" Umbridge yelled. "You, Black, not another word!"

Looking like a kicked puppy, Sirius put his quill down and crossed his arms. "I was only trying to help," he muttered.

"You didn't answer my question," Flitwick reminded her politely. "Will you give them another chance?"

"No," Umbridge replied vehemently, "I will not, and you sit down, too. Minerva, explain the plan for your team."

"Oh, my," Minerva squeaked. She laid her hand over her heart. "Dolores, you caught me off guard. What, what was it you wanted?"

"I asked you to present the plan you and Filius designed," Umbridge replied through her teeth.

Minerva smiled. "Of course, I have them right here in my RCN," she said pertly. With a quick nod and smile at Burbage, she set her glasses on her nose and picked up her notebook.

"That's not an RCN," Filius pointed out stridently.

"Hmm? What's that, Filius?" Minerva asked the small wizard beside her.

Burbage frowned. "No, we certainly can't call that an RCN," she agreed with another belly laugh. "Minerva, what color would you call that notebook?"

Closing the cover, she peered at the tartan cover. "Oh, this!" she cried as she raised her head, "this is my family clan tartan. I didn't like that funereal black Severus created, so I thought I'd change it. I try to incorporate my plaid whenever I can. It makes me feel -"

"Silence," screamed Umbridge. With tightly clenched fists and a purple face, Dolores stared them down until there was silence. "Minerva, keep to the topic. Your and Filius' plan. Discuss. Now."

Minerva sniffed and raised a lone eyebrow. "You needn't get so snappy, Dolores," she replied with a snip. "I'm getting to it as fast as I can." Reopening her notebook, she peered inside. Confusion swam across her face for a brief moment. Then she broke out in gales of laughter. She covered her mouth with a hand, stopped laughing, and looked around the room. "I'm so sorry, Dolores, but it seems I've picked up the wrong notebook." She chuckled. "This is my mother's cookbook."

"A cookbook?" Filius cried out as if he had been personally affronted. "Minerva, I left my notebook in my office because you promised faithfully to bring yours! Now, how is that going to help us?"

"Oh, I am sorry, Filius," Minerva replied as she reached over to pat him on the shoulder. "No, it won't help us now, but it has the most delicious recipe for raspberry cranachan." She held the book open for him to see. "I'd be happy to share the recipe."

"Enough!" Umbridge shouted. She breathed angrily and noisily through her nose for a few moments. "Burbage! Black!" Umbridge demanded. "You two! Present your plans now!"

Sirius Black stood up and assisted Burbage to her feet. Without a word, he walked over to the Magi-Board and gestured frantically at it.

"May we use the Magi-Board?" Burbage asked Umbridge. "We have created our lesson anticipating that we'd all have Magi-Board technology."

Umbridge snorted. "Yes, of course, go ahead."

With a huge grin, Sirius clapped his hands in excitement and bowed with exaggerated politeness to Umbridge. Using his wand, he magically lit up the Magi-Board like a large movie screen. He stepped across the room, keeping his wand pointed at the Magi-Board, and then he gave his partner a thumbs-up.

"Sirius and I have been working very hard to come up with a unit," Charity explained. "We thought it would be great to have the students compare Muggle history to Magical history across the ages." She dimmed the lighting in the room and made a dramatic gesture towards the screen. Then, her voice took on a sonorous, dramatic flair as she announced, "We begin with the Age of Dinosaurs!"

Sirius flicked his wand. Two happy dinosaurs appeared on the screen and began lumbering side by side across a swamp. One of the dinosaurs was wearing what appeared to be one of Dumbledore's old cast-off hats. It was purple with a high pointed peak and large yellow stars.

"When dinosaurs roamed the earth," Charity read aloud in a flat monotone. She paused to turn the page of her script. "There were Magical dinosaurs and Muggle dinosaurs, and they lived together in harmony."

"How long does this last?" Hooch asked loudly. "Surely, not up until the present."

"Hush," Minerva chided her. "I'm trying to learn something."

Sirius changed the scene, and Charity continued undisturbed. "And one day the Muggle dinosaur -" Again, she paused to turn a page. "- said to his Magical friend, 'Why can't I do magic like you?' "

"Thank you, Charity and Sirius," Umbridge said quickly. She reset the lighting. "That's enough, my dears. I think we see where you are heading. Good job!" She sighed when they grinned at her approval and began dismantling their dinosaur show.

"Yes, well done," Flitwick said in a tone indicating that he thought nothing of the sort, "but it's not realistic! Whoever heard of talking dinosaurs?"

"There's Barney," Hermione said suddenly. When everyone in the room turned towards her, the girl blushed. "I mean, Barney the big purple dinosaur. He talks and sings. Children really love him, but he can be annoying to adults and older children. I'm babbling, aren't I? I'm sorry." She bit her bottom lip.

"Does this Barney have anything to do with her plans?" Umbridge asked Hermione. A great smirk on her lips, she pointed towards Sybil.

"Uh, no," Hermione admitted. "I've tried to help Professor Trelawney create some plans like you asked, but I don't have access to her class syllabus. And every time I've tried to get her to work on them, she's been engaged with the Inner Eye."

"I see grave danger," Trelawney muttered. "The Inner Eye never lies."

"That is enough!" Umbridge wailed. "Pomona, Severus! Your turn."

Pomona Sprout looked at Severus Snape, who seemed completely absorbed in his black book. The silence continued unabated. For several long minutes, the room was utterly still. All eyes were focused on Snape, who seemed completely oblivious to it all.

Finally, Severus looked up, nonchalantly placed a green silk ribbon inside the book, and closed it. He cleared his throat. "I didn't do one," he said simply.

"You didn't do one?" Umbridge echoed.

"That _is_ what I said," he replied with painful slowness.

Tears began to pool up in Pomona's eyes. "He refused to do the project, and I wasn't about to do one all by myself." She turned to her husband as the tears flowed down her face. "Filius, I just can't take this anymore. The stress is killing me."

"It will all be okay, darling," he told her. "Here," he said gently as he pulled a small, blue vial from his vest pocket, "take the valerian potion." He rubbed circles on her back until she swallowed the sedative.

Umbridge was nearly apoplectic. "Did anyone do the project correctly?" she roared.

Vector and Sinistra stood together. "We have created a way to have students use their knowledge of Arithmancy to create constellations that they have learned about in Astronomy," Aurora said briskly.

"Fine," Umbridge declared. "Tell us about it."

"Each student will first choose a constellation that he or she finds particularly fascinating. He or she will research it thoroughly, presenting a paper on what he or she has learned," added Septima.

"Next, the student will calculate the variables for each star within his or her chosen constellation," continued Aurora, "and by using enchanted phospho-balls, he or she will then create a three dimensional model of that constellation."

"Bravo, ladies!" cheered Umbridge. "Now, do you all see what a little team work can accomplish?"

"Would you like to see how it works?" asked Septima sweetly.

"Oh, by all means," Dolores begged.

"Nox," Septima said, and instantly the room was plunged into darkness. "These are the enchanted phospho-balls," she explained. Although the room was pitch black, a small group of round objects no larger than a pea could be seen glowing. "Can you see them?"

The collective "ooh's" and "ah's" were Aurora's cue. She used her wand to levitate one enchanted phospho-ball through the darkness where it hovered over the table. "This enchanted phospho-ball represents the first star in Centaurus, which, as you know, is the constellation with the most stars," she explained. "Did you see how I slowly set the first enchanted phospho-ball in place?"

"Now," Septima chimed in, "Aurora and I will work quickly together to finish the constellation."

A few seconds of quiet followed. Suddenly, the room was lit up by an artillery barrage the likes of which hadn't been seen in the United Kingdom since the Battle of Britain! Enchanted phospho-balls, raining down like smart bombs, zinged and ricocheted across the room, slamming into Dolores. She was pelted from every imaginable angle.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!" screeched Umbridge. "If I don't get absolute cooperation right now, I'll have the Ministry dock your paychecks!" Instantly, the blitz ended. "Lumos!" she shouted.

"We are so sorry!" Vector exclaimed.

Simultaneously, Sinistra cried, "I don't understand! It was like they were possessed!"

Umbridge closed her eyes and held out her hands for silence. She stood there for a while, collecting herself. Finally, she spoke in a pinched and highly irritated tone of voice. "Let's just move on, shall we?" She turned to face the entire group. "Your next assignment will be to create W. A. S. T. E. - This stands for 'Wizarding Assessments, Scaffolding, magi-Technologies, and Enrichment' ideas." As she reached into her pocket to remove the Magi-Board stylus and a small roll of parchment, one lone enchanted phospho-ball fell out of her hair and rolled across the table.

"Scaffolding?" Snape drawled. "Will we be hanging students now? I'd like to nominate several."

"Isn't the Magi-Board an example of magi-technology? Why do we have to create it again?" Hooch blurted out.

"Enrichment?" Pomona's words were slurred. "Do you mean like enriching the soil?"

"Or like enriching our bank accounts?" Charity Birbage asked eagerly.

"You _will_ ," Umbridge raised her voice, ignoring the questions around her, "work with a partner - a different partner - to create ways to make learning easier for your students. You have too many of your students failing. If a student fails, it's _your_ fault; therefore, you must invent strategies to keep students from failing."

McGonagall's face darkened, and she shot to her feet, frowning. "It most certainly is not my fault!" Minerva exclaimed. A volley of mutinous comments joined hers.

"Might I remind you," Dolores snapped with a condescending sniff, "that I am High Inquisitor here? I, and I alone, have the authority to re-calculate any and all grades. And, if I report to the Ministry that you are failing entirely too many students, then it _is_ your fault!"

McGonagall slowly sank back into her chair as the grin rose on Umbridge's face. "Yes, I think you're finally beginning to understand - all of you. According to Educational Decree Number 21, I now have the power to override the authority of each and every teacher." She paused to let that sink in and giggled triumphantly. "So, you see, you really have no choice but to formulate the scaffolding and enrichment ideas. You and your partners will produce one way to help slower students achieve as well as one way to help advanced students to learn more."

"All right," Flitwick spoke for the group, "those seem to be sound educational ideas. We'll -"

Umbridge interrupted him. "It doesn't matter what you think. You'll simply have to do this whether you like it or not, whether you agree with it or not." She gifted them with a singularly oily smirk. "I want you to get into your new groups now. Group one will be McGonagall, Snape, Vector; group two Sprout, Sinistra, Hooch; group three, Burbage, Flitwick, Black. The last group is Trelawney, Hagrid, and the girl."

No one said a word as they each rose from their seats to sit closer to their new partners. Chairs squeaked and scraped on the floor. Heels clicked. Notebooks plopped. But not a word was uttered.

"I'll just leave you to it then," Umbridge told them cheerfully. "I'm sure if you apply yourselves, you'll have completed your W. A. S. T. E. assignments before we meet again." She turned to leave, but she stopped at the door. "Oh, yes, and one more thing - failing groups may find themselves dismissed from their posts with or without a magical contract!" And with that parting shot she left the room, banging the door behind her.

"What a stupid acronym!" blurted Hooch. "Don't you know W. A. S. T. E. is something that goes in a dust bin!"

"I know that these plans and meetings are a W. A. S. T. E. of my time," Sinistra countered.

"I'm already killing myself trying to get everything done," Sprout protested woozily. "Teaching a full load, grading papers, making lesson plans, meeting parents, updating my grade book, tending the greenhouses, watching out for my Hufflepuffs, and now we have these ghastly monthly meetings and extra paperwork! I'm so overwhelmed at times, I've been having panic attacks!"

"There, there, pet," Flitwick consoled her. "Why don't you just rest, hmm? I'll take care of this for you."

"She's up to more than simply asking us to do these assignments of hers," Sirius Black grumbled darkly.

"Let's see," McGonagall stated as she held up one finger, "the Toad has disbanded all student organizations, and now -" She held up a second finger "- she is running the staff ragged with nonsensical work."

"She's crazy!" Burbage asserted. "Looney, bonkers, nuts, loopy! Just stark, staring crackers!"

"No, she's not," Severus drawled, "and that's what makes her so dangerous. By keeping the students from meeting, she has isolated them within their houses." He paused, black eyes glittering. "The work that she's piled on us is to keep us out of the way and from working together on important business while she garners more power from the dimwits at the Ministry."

Flitwick nodded, anger brewing behind his spectacles. "The classic military strategy of 'divide and conquer' is what she's using," he declared. "We've got to stop her."

"But what does she want?" Charity Burbage asked. "Maybe if we find out what she wants, we can just give it to her. Once she's satisfied, maybe she'll leave us alone."

Aurora Sinistra laughed bitterly at her naïve friend. "She'll never be satisfied, Charity. She's after power," Sinistra stated firmly. "She's a Slytherin, and she's ambitious." She gazed levelly around the room. "It's simple; Dolores wants control of Hogwarts."

"Then let's give it to her," Severus Snape, a devious gleam in his dark eyes, said simply.

"Are you mad?" demanded Sirius Black as he leapt from his chair. "War is nearly upon us, and you'd like to hand over our base of operations to the enemy? Or is it that you're really on their side? Is that it Snape? Still supporting that Dark Lord of yours?"

With an equally childish reaction, Snape bolted to his feet as well, palming his wand. He stood facing Black like a large, dangerous cat. "I beg your pardon," Snape growled.

"Enough!" roared McGonagall. "Sit down, both of you!"

"Sirius, sit back down and apologize now," Septima Vector Black scolded her husband.

One mumbled apology was all it took. Severus sat back down, his wand, unseen, sliding back up his sleeve.

"All right, Severus," Burbage asked, "what did you mean about giving Hogwarts and all her power to the Toad?"

"As I said," he said, "if Dolores Umbridge wants to have the sole authority to run Hogwarts, let's give it to her." He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands. "Think about all the myriad decisions we, as educators, must make every day. There are classes to prepare for and teach. Certain students need extra help or an advanced lesson. Others need detentions, which must be monitored. Papers must be marked and recorded, progress or lack thereof noted."

"And that's just the educational aspect," Sinistra said with a shark-like smile. "Parents must be informed of grades and behavior. Meetings must be held with students and families concerning future careers, university choices. And that doesn't begin to touch the mountains of paperwork, meetings, and research involved in teaching."

"And all Heads of House must deal with homesickness, internal squabbles, and arguments between Houses. The troubles are endless," Snape continued. "Not to mention the intrusions into our personal time and space. We are on-call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to students and their parents."

"I think I see where this is going," Flitwick grinned. "If she wants us to come to her, bowing and scraping for every little decision needed to run every aspect of the school, let's do it. We can run her ragged!"


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. This little story is dedicated to all my teacher friends.

I borrowed heavily from this website: www. sciencegeek lingo. html as well as several websites documenting current state teacher requirements.

Please review.

 **CHAPTER 6 "STOOPID Is As STOOPID Does"**

 **Dec. 15, 1995 - Student Teaching Options to Optimize the Potential for** **Individual Development**

"Why's the meeting tonight at 5:30?" Hagrid asked as he shortened his stride for Rolanda Hooch. The corridors were full of students bustling about. In the morning, they were leaving for holidays.

"Dunno, there, Hagrid," was Hooch's reply. "All I know's that Dumbledore requested everyone to be on time at 5:30."

As they entered the staffroom, they saw that they were just in time. Quickly, they took their seats, and as soon as they did, Dumbledore rose from his chair at the head of the table.

"As Professor Umbridge will be here shortly, I'll come straight to the point," he said bluntly. "Do not antagonize the woman any more than necessary. Her authority is growing exponentially within the Ministry as well as the School Board, and I predict there will soon be a day when I am no longer able to intervene on your behalf."

"Surely, those idiots at the Ministry won't dare try to get rid of you!" McGonagall argued.

Dumbledore sighed and smiled wearily. "I fear I am in just as much danger of being sacked as the rest of you." He looked at Minerva, a mild twinkling returning to his eyes. "Idiots not withstanding." He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on each of them for just a moment. "My continued presence here is entirely dependent upon your collective cooperation with High Inquisitor Umbridge."

"Albus, I will not bow down to anyone," declared Minerva in a voice nearly trembling with rage. "When she was a student here, I didn't permit her to bully the other students, and I certainly won't allow her to bully us now!"

"There's no need for outright defiance," Snape told Minerva, "not when Slytherin guile will work much better."

Dumbledore coughed to clear his throat and rose. "Well, I'll be leaving now that I see you have this in hand." He walked towards the door and opened it. "Oh, good evening, Dolores," he said brightly. "I was just informing the staff that they are to give you their complete cooperation." He turned, and before he left, he gave the room a stern warning look over the tops of his glasses.

Blinking in surprise, a delighted Umbridge sashayed into the room and took the seat the Headmaster had just vacated. "Good evening," she told them with a girlish simper. "I'm pleased to know that you all now understand the utter importance of my work here. After all, it is for the ultimate benefit of the children. Now, I'd like to hear some of your plans." She sniffed and inclined her head towards Trelawney. "You, first, Professor Trelawney."

Sybil Trelawney stood, shaking so nervously that her beads rattled. She reached blindly beside her to pull Hermione to her feet. "R-Rubeus," she said as she waved a hand at the half-giant, "come up here with us."

Hagrid joined his partners, and Trelawney abandoned Hermione's arm in order to cling to the more substantial strength of his. " 'ermione, here, is goin' ta speak fer our group," he rumbled, giving the young woman a firm poke on the shoulder.

Hermione plastered on a fake smile and picked up her RNC. "Good evening," she said, "we have an idea that we think might work. We believe that the establishment of a tutoring club would be of great benefit. Academically weaker students would be paired with a peer tutor to help them in their weak subjects, and those academically successful students would gain in self-esteem. The school could also offer house points and other prizes to encourage tutors."

"A sound idea," Flitwick said. "Perhaps we could put it in place after Christmas holidays."

"Um, yes," Umbridge said reluctantly, "I'll have to consult class time tables to ascertain the potential of this. Please be seated." She brushed some imaginary lint from her sleeve. "Professor Flitwick? Please present your idea."

Flitwick nodded to his group members, and they stood as a group. "While researching your project - "

"Which was fascinating," Sirius added quickly.

"- we came across a book," Flitwick explained, "a very interesting book by an American educator and author -"

"A Muggle educator and author," put in Burbage.

Flitwick continued without missing a beat, "- named Rudy Rayne or something like that." He flicked his wand and a copy appeared. He handed it to Umbridge with a little dramatic flourish. "Basically, I gather that some students have difficulties at school because of their backgrounds."

"Muggleborns, for instance," Burbage added, "do not have the basic knowledge of how our world works. Many times they do poorly simply because they don't understand the way things are." She nodded to Hermione, who nodded vigorously in return.

"And the economically disadvantaged," Siruis said, "regardless of blood status often find it difficult to fit in with their more well-off peers."

"Yes, but isn't that just common sense?" questioned Sinistra. "Everyone is different. There will always be differences between people. It doesn't matter from where the student comes, we have to educate them all."

"I agree," Hooch asserted. "They can choose to learn or not."

"Let's not get into a discussion about this right now," Umbridge raised her voice and declared. She held up her arms with palm tilted outward in a gesture demanding they stop. "Now, Professor Sinistra, please have your group present."

Sinistra, Sprout, and Hooch stood as Burbage, Flitwick, and Black settled back into their chairs.

"Well, we've found some pretty interesting facts, I can tell you," Hooch said. "One of the best ways is to improve student learning is with visual aids."

"Another way is through the use of small groups," added Sinistra.

"The best way we found to enrich learning," Sprout said brightly, "is to assign projects to the more advanced students, allowing them to learn things for themselves."

Abruptly, the trio sat back down.

"Oh," Umbridge gasped, "I thought you would take much longer." She tapped the table top with a pink nail. "Professor McGonagall? Would you and your team make your presentation?"

Severus stood and took his time to assist both Minerva and Septima from their seats. "High Inquisitor Umbridge," he intoned solemnly, "I will speak for the group. After our last meeting, my esteemed colleagues and I took a careful review of your assignment, and we concluded that it did, indeed, have instructive merit. At that time, we began a two part review of the educational process here at Hogwarts, and what we found was quite eye-opening." He gestured to Minerva, who took up the explanation.

"Upon a closer evaluation of long-standing pedagogical practices, I found a total of thirty-seven ways in which we could improve the current system. I also found evidence of fifty-two separate incidents where failure to follow Ministry procedures resulted in detrimental results." She nodded gravely and motioned to Snape.

"Further," Snape elaborated, "I have documented no less than six hundred and eighty-nine separate counts of situations, where poor educational practices could have resulted in possible destruction and could also have been instrumental in shutting down the school. This would have resulted in grave danger for students and staff alike as well as a tremendous expense for the taxpayer.

"When my fellow educators, showed me the results of their findings," Septima admitted, "I took the liberty of running a few arithmantic equations. I calculated the blended paradigms through the experiential based learning process and measured the results against such near tangible strategies as outcome-based enrichment with synergistic effects, and I fear that the results have the potential to prove scandalous for -" She paused to take an deep, shuddering breath. "Well, I can only say the results are worth delving into further."

"We have collected all of our other colleague's findings and suggestions, and have added them to ours along with completed and corrected lesson plans that you had initially required," Snape continued. "We are quite certain that with your leadership and Ministry backing we will drive cross-curricular mastery learning via self-reflection."

"Well, now, I'm not quite sure what to say," Umbridge admitted.

"We, too, were stunned at these revelations," Snape crooned with pathos. He looked around the room, nodding knowingly at his co-workers. "We are also all too painfully aware that we, as mere teachers, do not have the expressed authority to properly evaluate these shocking and potentially detrimental allegations. After all, our years of experience and expertise come only from working with children in the classroom; however, there are those outside the educational process have the Ministry backing and the funds to proceed." He heaved a sigh and held out a hand to McGonagall. "Minerva, if you would?"

With a great show of reluctance, Professor Minerva McGonagall and Septima Vector reached under the table and pulled for a five inch three-ring binder. It was overly-stuffed with papers, charts, graphs, and various pieces of information. The notebook itself was pink and sparkly, and on the cover was the fluffiest, Persian kitten imaginable. When Minerva set the notebook in front of Umbridge, the High Inquisitor clasped her hands together in delight as a single tear of joy slipped down her overly rouged cheek.

"Inside this notebook," Snape explained, "which we call our 'Student Teaching Options to Optimize the Potential for Individual Development'; you will find the amalgamation of all our findings. We will leave it to your judgment as to how these findings should be organized, handled, and integrated; that is if you feel that they should, indeed, be instituted. After all, you have the authority and power to take any actions you deem necessary; whereas, we do not." He bowed formally to her and sat down, Minerva and Septima joining him.

Umbridge cast a covetous eye at the pink notebook that sat so tantalizingly near her. Slowly, she reached forward with two greedy paws and pulled the notebook to her.

"So, you will look into the matter?" Sinistra asked.

"Oh, please, Dolores," Minerva added softly. "I know it will take up a tremendous amount of your time and energy, but -"

Snape interrupted her. "It is a colossal undertaking, Madam Inquisitor," he told her. "Only someone of the utmost discernment and talent could assume such a heavy burden. We -" He gestured around the room. "-are mere educators, who possess only a modicum of understanding when it comes to educational reforms."

"Only someone with your authority and zeal could handle such an awesome responsibility," Sinistra urged softly.

Slowly, her face changed from one of demanding scorn to one of magnanimous beneficence. "Of course, I will," she gushed. She stood up, hefted the book in her arms, and clutched it to her chest. "I'll go through this immediately," she informed them. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. "You all may carry on with today's assignment. I'll just take this to my office and begin going through it." Heels clicking in rapid staccato, she left the staffroom without even remembering to give them their new assignments.

When her footsteps were just an echo ringing on the stones, Pomona Sprout stood up. "How could you?" she demanded, disgust dripping from every word. "How could you betray Albus and Hogwarts like that?

"The three of you just sacrificed us all to that Toad," Sirius yelled. "Just offered us up wrapped in pink glitter and kittens!"

"Sirius Black, don't you dare take that tone with me!" snapped Septima.

"Really, Pomona," Snape drawled, "don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You leave my wife's knickers out of this, Snape!" shouted Flitwick.

"Didn't any of you listen to what they were saying?" Aurora Sinistra asked slowly. "Surely, you didn't fall for it, too?" She laughed.

Charity Burbage, her voice low and steady, said, "I think someone had better start explaining because it sounded to me as if you lot were siding with the Toad."

"We," Hooch added, indicating herself and the others, "got that same impression. So, start explaining."

Minerva heaved a gargantuan sigh. "Really, now, surely none of you would dream that I would betray Albus. What I said was that I had found thirty-seven ways to improve the current system, which I did. I just failed to mention that number one on my list is to get rid of Dolores. And it is true that in fifty-two incidents we didn't follow Ministry procedures causing poor results. Poor results for the Ministry, that is, but not for the students or the school." She grinned like a cat eating cream.

Grins and chuckles began to circle the room.

"The six hundred and eighty-nine situations of potential destruction did happen," Snape asserted. "They happened at Durmstrang in the mid-1950's."

Septima Vector Black, laughed as she told them, "The arithmantic equations that I calculated were so full of obfuscations and redundancies, that no one could ever solve them. It would be like trying to calculate pi to the last digit using colors and fruit."

"The rest of the information contained in that hideous notebook consisted of a statistics, case studies, course syllabi, and other psuedo-factual odds and ends that Miss Granger printed for us from the Muggle Internet," Severus explained.

"Our efforts should keep her busy, and more importantly, off our backs for the rest of the year," Septima added.

"Right, now," Minerva said quickly, clapping her hands. "If we hurry, perhaps we can still make the Holiday Leaving Feast with the children." She stood up, ushering everyone towards the door. "Hurry, I can feel my mouth watering right now for that roast turkey."

"Ya don' have ta tell me twict," Hagrid bellowed. He stood, heading for the door, but like the gentleman he was, he stopped to hold the door open for the ladies.

"Thank you, Rubeus," Roland Hooch told him. She reached up to take his arm. "Why don't you escort me and the girls down to the Great Hall?" She indicated Charity Burbage and Sybil Trelawney.

"And, then, after the students are settled off for the night, maybe the four of us could skip down to the Hogshead Inn for a night cap?" Charity suggested.

"No, no," quavered Trelawney, "no strong spirits. This night is full of strong spirits of its own." She gathered her long skirts up in one hand and followed her companions out the door. "But perhaps a small sherry to keep off this dreadful winter chill wouldn't go amiss."

"If you don't mind," Aurora Sinistra said, "I'll just skip the feast. I have a gentleman waiting for me in Glasgow." At Minerva's nod, Aurora waved her wand, transforming her teaching robes to a slinky green dress with three inch stiletto heels.

"Have fun, dear," Minerva told her with a motherly chuckle. "Just don't walk through the corridors like that. I'm afraid you'll give the seniors heart failure."

"Your cloak," Severus said aloud. He carefully draped it around Aurora's shoulders. "Be sure to get an air-tight prenuptial agreement, Aurora. Minerva's brother, Robert, is the best in Scotland," he whispered to her.

"Hold on, Aurora, and we'll walk you out. Professor McGonagall, er, Minerva, if you don't mind, Septima and I would like to make an early evening as well. I've promised my darling bride that she could spend the holidays redecorating Grimmauld Place." He helped Septima with her cloak before donning his own. "Before I go, I'd like to apologize, Severus," Black said. "That was bloody brilliant."

Snape gave him a neutral nod.

Minerva smiled at the three young people. "Ah, get along with you," she laughed. "Severus, Pomona, Filius, as Head of House -"

"Let's just go before the Toad comes back," Flitwick said. "After you, Pomona, my dear." The couple left arm in arm.

"Well, let's not dilly-dally," she told Snape and Hermione as they left the room. "Later tonight, the two of you meet me in my sitting room, and we'll share a toast to successful conspiracies."

The End

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This chapter's title is a misspelled play on the quote by Forrest Gump.


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